


Adora, Baby Freak

by avulle



Series: A Slip in Time [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Smut, Turns Out, a little plot, catra also loves adora a lot okay, featuring adora the baby freak, less than the other one though, post-s5 catra and pre-s1 adora bone, pre-s1 adora is just similarly blind-sided, that's all that happens here, those fright zone kids really did not receive enough love growing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25586197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avulle/pseuds/avulle
Summary: “Catra,” Adora says, and Catra hums in response.“Adora,” she says, and the way she says it takes Adora’s breath away.Adora, she says, like Adora is her whole world, and there’s nothing more she could ever want.Then, like it’s nothing, Catra kisses her, long and slow, breathing each other’s air and not a single inch between them and Adora keeps thinking it’s going to end but it’s not and how does she breathe how has she ever breathed and—Catra pulls away, and Adora has no idea why she had wanted to breathe so damn bad.(post-s5 catra x pre-s1 adora lemon)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: A Slip in Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854448
Comments: 54
Kudos: 342





	Adora, Baby Freak

**Author's Note:**

> Companion to [A Slip in Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24486310).
> 
> Look. Look. Obviously this was going to happen eventually XD
> 
> I actually had this written like two weeks ago? Three weeks ago? I was just then visited upon by crippling anxiety because man, fuck everything right now, am i right? Anyways, then I read a nice comment and I went back and read it and hey what do you know I actually dig it.
> 
> This one's brought to you by pre-S1 Adora also deserved better.
> 
> (This is by far the hardest fic I've ever had to title—the first one took the good title.)

Adora wakes up to a warmth, all around her. The kind of warmth that you get only when you go out into the blistering heat of the Fright Zone afternoons from the bitter cold of the dorms. That moment, in which the searing heat is nothing but blissful because your body feels so cold.

The moment that always passes, leaving you sweaty and gross and miserable.

Adora waits for it, lingers in it, but it doesn’t pass.

She hears a soft, low, rumbling, and she opens her eyes to a furred face, inches from her own.

So close she can’t focus her eyes, close enough they’re breathing the same air, close enough it takes her sleep-addled brain a moment to recognize the face of her best friend.

When she recognizes her, it just comes out.

“Catra,” she says, and Catra hums in response.

“Adora,” Catra responds, and the way she says it takes Adora’s breath away.

Adora, she says, like Adora is her whole world, and there’s nothing more she could ever want.

While Adora is being blind-sided by the adoration in Catra’s voice, Catra pulls her closer, nuzzles her face into Adora’s.

The fur on her face is just as soft as she remembers, from when Catra was a kitten.

The fur she hasn’t dared touch in ten years, because of how it might make her feel, and what touching it would say about how she felt about Catra, both to Catra, and to herself.

It makes her heart pound and makes her feel safe in a single dizzying array of emotion.

Then, like it’s nothing, Catra kisses her, long and slow, breathing each other’s air and not a single inch between them and Adora keeps thinking it’s going to end but it’s not and how does she breathe how has she ever breathed and—

Catra pulls away, and Adora has no idea why she had wanted to breathe so damn bad.

She could be kissing Catra right now.

Catra could be kissing her like there was nothing in the world but the two of them, like they weren’t…

In the bunk room with fifty other cadets.

Adora is about to stiffen when Catra kisses her again, and man.

What was it that Adora was so worried about?

Her hands have found their way onto the fur on Catra’s bare back.

Catra’s.

Bare.

Back.

Catra pulls away, and Adora curses herself for being so distracted by the fact that Catra is topless in front of her, that Catra’s bare breasts (or like, you know, as close they ever come to being bare) were pressed against her, that there was just a single layer of clothing between Catra’s (bare) breasts and her chest and.

Like.

On second thought, she can see why she was so distracted.

“ _ Adora _ ,” Catra says, her voice playfully teasing and filled with all the love in the world and what.

What.

What is happening.

“Where’d you go?” Catra says in that same tone of voice that like, obscures her words because it’s so soft and kind and like Adora hasn’t heard since they were kids (kid and kitten), and like, not even then.

“Uh.”

Catra pulls away, and her eyes, so brilliant and clear of anger and hate, are on Adora’s own, and there’s this soft, loving smile on her lips and holy shit. 

What are words.

Adora can kinda see Catra’s boobs, like, in her peripheral vision, but they pale in comparison to Catra’s face.

(And!)

(For the record!)

(Catra’s boobs are great! They’ve haunted Adora dreams for the last like, three years!)

There’s.

No one has ever looked at her like that.

What.

“Adora.”

Catra stops smiling.

Why.

Catra, don’t stop smiling, please—

Don’t stop looking at me like that, please—

Catra’s hands are on her face, the pads of her fingers soft and just the right amount of squishy, wiping away Adora’s tears 

And Catra isn’t smiling anymore, but her eyes.

She’s still looking at Adora so soft and open and loving and.

Why can’t Adora stop crying?

“Adora,” she says again, cradling Adora’s face in her hands, her thumb on Adora’s cheek, swiping away her tears, her claws nowhere to be found. “Did you have a nightmare? Are you okay?”

She tries to pull Adora closer, but Adora catches her by the (bare) shoulders, and she stops.

Adora doesn’t answer, and after that Catra doesn’t say anything, just wipes away Adora’s tears as they come and never stops looking at her, eyes soft, open, and loving.

Adora drinks it in, like water to a cadet after a twelve hour training session.

She needs it, and Catra seems more than willing to give as much of it as Adora can take.

Finally, her tears stop, and Catra smiles at her again, slowly closing the distance between them, and kisses her.

Not as long as before, but not.

Not short, either.

No.

It’s a lot.

Catra’s hands on her face, the fur of her shoulders under Adora’s hands.

“I love you,” Catra says, voice quiet against Adora’s lips. She pulls back, smiles a little crookedly, with those same damn eyes, now with a hint of mischievousness. “Should I have started with that? I feel like I should have started with that.” She leans in again, kisses Adora again, slow and sweet like.

Like she loves Adora.

Like this is all she wants to do tonight.

Pulls away. “I love you.”

Again.

Slow and gentle and wonderful.

Pulls away. “I love you.”

Again.

Adora breathes in, and she smells like fish and mint and chocolate.

Pulls away. “I love you.”

She grins.

It takes a moment for Adora to process the words.

“I’m—I—“

She blinks.

She notices their surroundings for the first time.

Pastel walls, a towering ceiling, a weird waterfall thing.

A massive bed that could sleep at least ten.

“What?”

Catra’s brow furrows.

“Adora, are you okay?” She quirks her head. “You’re being weird. I mean,” her voice lightens a bit, “you’re always—“

Whatever she’s looking for in Adora’s face, she doesn’t find, and her voice peters out.

She tries to pull Adora into a hug, but Adora’s hands remain still on her shoulders, and some of that openness in her expression shutters.

Adora pulls her hands away from Catra’s shoulders like she’s been burned.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

Catra shakes her head, runs her fingers over Adora’s face.

“No,” she says. “You didn’t—“ and then she stops.

She traces something on Adora’s jaw line.

Or.

She traces nothing on Adora’s jawline.

Catra’s gaze flickers down Adora’s body, and then she looks around them.

“Oh.”

She looks back at Adora, and then.

There it is again.

That look.

Like she loves Adora so much she can’t even contain it.

“I love you,” she says again.

Adora feels her face twitch. She should be smiling right?

But.

Catra would never.

What’s—

Then there’s Catra’s hand on her face, her eyes soft in front of her, a smile playing at her lips.

“You’re dreaming, Adora,” she says, in that voice that sounds so much like Catra’s, but is too soft, too kind, too in love. Catra sits up a bit, takes her hands from Adora’s face to run her hands over her furred chest, reminding Adora that Catra is, in fact, half naked. “Isn’t this what you always wanted?”

“Yes,” Adora says immediately, mentally staggered by the sheer physical force of Dream-Catra’s half-naked body. Catra’s hands freeze, and Adora’s gaze darts up to her face to see a moment of surprise, before a real, unbridled.

Joy?

Is that.

Is that what this is?

Does Adora not know what Catra looks like when she’s happy?

What.

What kind of fucked up, garbage friend is she that—

Catra’s hand on her face interrupts her thoughts, tracing the pale white lines of the scars on Adora’s face.

The unbridled joy on her face has faded, but Adora can still see the hints of it, now recognizes it as that alien softness she hadn’t recognized before.

“Your dream was me, happy, and in love with you,” Catra says, under her breath. There’s a sadness, wistfulness, mixed into her expression. Adora jerks up, raises her hands to do something, anything.

What are hands for, even?

She doesn’t figure it out, and Catra catches them. She raises one to her cheek, holds it to her fur.

“Is that right?”

Like.

Yeah.

“What else would I have wanted?”

There’s that joy again, spilling across Catra’s face and she is.

So, so beautiful.

“You’re so…” Catra shakes her head. “You’re such a dork.” Then, in a lower voice. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Adora is confused.

“You didn’t. You didn’t have to do anything?”

There is that surprise again, followed by another smile.

That look that makes Adora come apart at the seams.

Catra turns her face to press her lips to Adora’s palm, and closes her eyes.

“I love you. Gods, I’m so stupid for you.”

Another kiss, and then, she opens her eyes, but when she opens them, they are dark and hungry and something hot drips down from Adora’s heart to her abdomen, and then down further still.

“Is that all that you wanted?”

It.

It should be.

But it really.

It really isn’t.

Catra’s eyes are still on her, hungry and dark.

She’s smiling, and it’s got an edge, like every smile Adora has seen her smile, a smile that Adora feels like she should recognize.

But.

But Adora’s never seen Catra smile like this.

The heat inside of her grows, and she can feel it on her skin, and she’s sure she must be the most ridiculous color.

She wants to—

She wants to pin Catra to the mattress and make her scream and whine and cry and oh gods what’s wrong with her isn’t she supposed to—

“It’s okay, Adora,” Catra says, and there’s that softness again. “If I don’t want it, I’ll tell you.” The softness drops away as Catra leans towards her, sets their cheeks together, whispers in Adora’s ear. “But Adora, I’m pretty sure I  _ really want it _ .”

A moment later and Adora has Catra pushed down into the bed. Catra laughs.

“Yeah. Just like—“

Adora kisses her, pushes as much of their bodies together as she can.

Catra’s lips open beneath her and.

Adora needs to take a moment.

Adora pulls away, and Catra is smiling against her lips.

“I forgot how bad you were at this,” she says, but there’s no edge to it. “I forgot how much I didn’t care.”

Catra’s wraps her hands around her neck, tangles their legs, pulls Adora closer, and kisses her again.

As they kiss, Adora feels Catra’s chest vibrate with a rumbling—

Adora pulls back, chest heaving, and Catra smiles at her, a growling, rumbling purr echoing from between her lips.

“Oh yeah.” Catra says. “I purr. Have I mentioned that?”

She definitely has not.

How had Adora spent her entire life ignorant of this.

Critical.

Catra fact.

They kiss again, and Adora’s hands buried in Catra’s hair, and it’s sloppy and messy and Catra feels so good and there is someone in the room mumbling, every time they separate, and they’re saying “Catra you feel so good”, and “Catra I love you so much,” and “Catra how did you never tell me you purr,” and “Catra your tongue feels so good, how does your tongue feel so good” and.

It’s her voice.

She pulls away, and Catra arches up into her as she goes, eyes closed and mane splayed all around her.

Her face is happy and a little red, under her fur, and she is just the most beautiful, most exquisite person Adora has ever seen.

She sinks back into the mattress, chest still rumbling with a burbling, growling purr, fingers soft against the back of Adora’s neck and Adora’s hands are on her ridiculously beautiful face, running over the soft fur she finds there.

Catra nuzzles into her hand, eyes still closed, and “you’re so cute you’re so perfect how are you so—“

Adora stops herself.

“I’m. I’m sorry?”

Catra’s eyes open, and her smile turns a little crooked.

She takes the hand Adora has placed against her face, slips it down her body, and—

Adora’s hand is on Catra.

She’s wearing pajama pants, but there is.

It feels damp?

Catra is pushing her hand against her, and it definitely feels damp and also Adora can feel her, at least a little, and oh my gods this is—

“Don’t apologize,” Catra says, dragging Adora’s hand back up her body. She sets it back against her cheek. With her free hand, she pulls Adora closer. “And definitely don’t stop.”

Catra kisses her in that way she seems to like to do between her sentences, just long enough to make it really hard for Adora to think.

“Being told how great and amazing I am kinda does it for me.”

“You’re so great,” Adora says, and is interrupted by Catra’s lips against her own. “You’re so amazing.”

Again.

“I love you so much you felt so good I want to touch you so bad—“

“Adora wants to stop kissing and actually have sex?” Catra says, laughter in her voice, when she pulls away after interrupting her. “What bizarro dream have I been dropped into?”

Adora’s hands are back in Catra’s hair, scratching at her scalp.

Adora hesitates.

“I mean. Not. Not yet?” She looks away, and Catra’s finger catches her cheek, and pulls her gaze back to her own. Catra presses their lips together, long and slow and mind-destroying. When she can think again, Adora says, “We’re not done kissing yet. Right?”

In answer, Catra laughs, and kisses her again.

And then they kiss and they kiss and they kiss and Catra is so warm and the fur in her face is so soft and her tongue feels so good and just.

Everything is wonderful and perfect.

Catra is wonderful and perfect.

“Okay,” Catra says, in response to Adora’s  _ Gods, Catra, you’re so perfect, how are you so perfect _ .

Adora blinks, kisses Catra again.

“ _ Adora _ ,” Catra says when they separate again, breathing a little heavy, voice a little chiding. “Either you’re going to start touching me, or I am.”

Adora blinks at the mental image of Catra, beneath her, touching herself. The image of it draws a gasp from her, the kind of gasp she’d always had to muffle when she’d been masturbating alone in the bunk room.

She can see Catra there, one hand in her pants, one hand on her breast, mewling into the open air, and—

Catra’s laugh brings her back to the present.

“You’re such a freak, Adora. How did you manage to hide it so well for the first year we were together?”

Those words might have confused Adora, but Adora doesn’t actually process them because as Catra speaks, she slides the hand she doesn’t have cupped behind Adora’s neck down her body, smooths her hand around her breast. She squeezes, and lets out a breathy little moan.

Adora’s gaze snaps up to Catra’s, whose gaze is hooded.

She licks her lips.

“Tell me how beautiful I am,” Catra says.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

Catra sucks in a breath, Adora sees Catra’s fingers trace around her nipple, just barely not touching it, and Catra shakes as she lets the breath back out.

“Tell me how much you want me.”

“Oh Gods so much,” Adora strangles out, and then, “you’re so pretty and the noises you make are so—“ Adora groans, and Catra mewls beneath her. “I love you so much, and—“

Catra’s hand starts drifting lower—

“And I want to touch you so bad.”

Catra’s hand stops, right around her belly button, where her fur starts to get real thick.

She opens her eyes, smirks a little.

“I thought you wanted to watch?”

“I… I didn’t say that.”

Catra laughs. “Sure you didn’t.”

The hand on Adora neck slowly pulls her down towards her chest.

“Come on, Princess,” Catra teases, when Adora hesitates. “Do you wanna make me beg?”

Adora looks up at Catra, then looks away.

(Which really just means she’s looking Catra’s other boob, and like man.)

(Wow.)

(Catra’s boobs are.)

(Great.)

“What if—what if I’m bad at this?”

“Oh, Adora,” Catra says, in that soft voice of hers. Adora looks up, and Catra’s giving her that soft, loving gaze that just destroys her. “It’s just a dream.”

But.

Dream Catra still deserves better.

Catra’s hand on Adora’s head draws her back up her body, until they’re face to face.

“Of course you’re gonna suck,” Catra says, drawing one of Adora’s hands to her breast and kissing her. The buzzing of anxiety in Adora’s brain quiets a little. “But I don’t care. I want  _ you _ to touch me.”

Catra kisses her again, and pulls Adora close to her body.

Catra releases her, and when Adora hesitates again, she meets Adora’s gaze and says—

“ _ Please _ .”

Adora feels something snap inside of her.

“ _ Gently _ ,” Catra says, hand on Adora’s wrist when she squeezes too hard.

She reduces the pressure, does her best to imitate what Catra did to herself, and Catra groans.

She pushes her breasts into Adora’s hand, and mewls under her breath and—

“You feel so good Catra I can’t believe I’m touching you I want to touch you forever you’re so pretty I love you so much—”

Catra is purring and her eyes are closed, and her hand on the back of Adora’s neck is holding her tight against her, so Adora presses clumsy, wet kisses to the side of her face. She kisses her way to Catra’s ear, and whispers—

“This is what I’ve always wanted, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, this is a dream come true, what did I do to deserve you—”

Catra shakes and mewls and gasps and her free hand digs into her hair as tears leak from the corners of her eyes.

“—you’re so pretty when you cry.”

Catra laughs, a weak, messy, wet thing.

“Gods, Adora.” Her hand catches Adora’s wrist, pulls it away from her breast. She opens her eyes, kisses Adora’s nose, then her lips. “How the hell did you hide what a raging freak you are for so long?”

There are still tears in the corners of her eyes, so Adora kisses them away.

“Is it—” Adora starts. Coughs. “Is it okay?”

That laugh again, happy and joyous and not cutting at all.

The hand on her neck drags Adora into another kiss.

“I love it.”

Adora giggles against her lips.

She looks down Catra’s body, the frizzled mess she’s made of Catra’s breast. Catra’s nipple stands up from the fur, bright red and—

Adora swallows.

She drifts down Catra’s body, and the hand Catra’s hand on the back of her neck drifts to her hair, snapping her hair tie with a claw, and digging her hand into the mass of her hair once it’s freed from its ponytail.

“Not that one,” Catra corrects, shifting her chest, and directing Adora to her other breast.

Adora stares down at it, swallows thickly.

She looks up at Catra, and the hunger in Catra’s gaze is like a bolt of lightning right through her.

“Please,” Catra says, and there it is again.

She kisses Catra’s breast, around her nipple, laving the fur with her tongue, and Catra gasps above her, digs her hands into Adora’s hair.

This leaves Adora’s other hand free to travel down her chest, to the thick fur above her waistline.

She closes her mouth around Catra’s nipple, and laves her tongue around it, and sounds Catra makes are obscene.

“Yes yes yes,” she whispers, and her voice is wet.

The idea of Catra crying because of what she’s doing to her is like fire in her veins.

Catra’s hands tighten in her hair, and she slips her hand further down, and cups the full length of Catra through her pajama pants, and Catra cries out into the air above her, her body bucking into Adora.

Adora smiles, release Catra’s nipple to kiss around it again, and Catra’s chest heaves and shakes beneath her.

Adora smiles, “Let me hear you,” kisses Catra’s breast again, “I love the way you sound,” and again, “Let me see your face” and again.

Catra lifts her face, and it’s tear streaked, and messy, and Gods  _ yes _ .

She puts a bit of pressure on the hand she has on Catra’s clothed sex, and Catra face crumples with a moan.

“Where the fuck did you learn this?” Catra gasps as Adora straightens so that she can see Catra’s face, her hand still on Catra’s sex. “Where’s my cute baby Adora who’s having sex for the first time?”

Adora smiles.

“So does that mean I’m doing good?” she asks, a little giddy.

“Don’t get full of yourself,” Catra says, voice breaking as Adora slides the hand she has cupping Catra up and down a little.

“Fuck,” Catra says, head falling back against the bed. “Take off your shirt.”

Adora removes her hand from Catra and takes off her shirt, stripping off her sports bra, and the ravenous want in the look Catra gives her naked chest makes Adora’s heart stop in her chest.

When Adora doesn’t start touching Catra again, Catra says—

“You better not fucking stop now, Adora.”

“Can I take off your pants?”

Catra takes them off for her in a blur of motion until Catra is laying naked before her, her pants shucked off into the waterfall.

“You—” Adora looks down at the way Catra’s fur is matted with her own wetness around her slit, and her throat goes dry. “You weren’t wearing underwear?”

“Why would I wear underwear to bed?”

Adora swallows thickly. She’d been.

She’d been—

“Take off your pants,” Catra says.

Adora wiggles to the edge of the bed, stands.

Looks back at the heat in Catra’s gaze.

She takes off her pants, and shunts them into waterfall.

(Because like, maybe that’s like, where they’re supposed to go?)

(Why is there a waterfall in this room?)

(Oh, right, Catra is naked.)

(In front of her.)

(Right.)

(Priorities.)

When Adora looks back at Catra, she finds Catra staring at her underwear (because Adora wears underwear to bed!).

Now that she’s been made aware of it, it feels damp.

Sticky.

She can’t see it from here, but she’s sure there’s just the biggest wet spot.

Adora feels color rising in her cheeks.

Catra’s nostrils flare as she takes in a deep breath, and Adora chokes on air.

Catra’s gaze flickers up to her, her eyes dark.

“Those, too,” she says.

Slowly, awkwardly, Adora pushes her underwear from her waist, and then wiggles until they drop to the ground.

She looks back to Catra and finds Catra touching herself, fangs digging into her lips.

Adora staggers towards the bed, almost trips onto it, crawls towards where Catra is leisurely touching herself, fingers slipping through her folds, sliding around her clit, slipping inside of her.

“You’re so hot gods how are you this hot,” Adora finds herself mumbling, taking the fingers Catra was using to touch herself in her own, and bringing them to her lips.

The sound Catra makes when Adora sucks her fingers into her mouth is just obscene.

She runs her fingers over Catra’s folds in the way she saw Catra do to herself, as she sucks on Catra’s fingers, and Catra whimpers at the ceiling.

“What the fuck,” she says, gasping as Adora cautiously presses into her with a single finger.

Adora releases Catra’s fingers, and says, “You taste so good Catra can I—”

Uh.

Wait.

What’s the word for this?

Uh.

Catra answers Adora’s question before Adora can figure it out, pushing Adora’s face down towards her crotch, and wow.

Wow.

That’s.

That’s really hot.

She slips her fingers out from inside of Catra, and swallows as she stares at Catra’s sex, the slicked down fur, and her sex and it’s so close and oh gods this was a bad idea, and—

Catra just pushes her whole face into her crotch, and grinds her sex against Adora’s face.

Oh.

Oh, yes.

Adora likes this a lot.

She tentatively runs her tongue over Catra the way she saw her fingers move, and Catra rewards her with a moaning purr that shakes her whole body.

“You taste so good, this is so great you’re so great—”

When Adora dips her tongue into Catra—

A.

Wow.

Holy shit.

Adora needs to take a moment.

B.

Catra grabs her head in both of her hands, so she assumes his means more.

Deeper, maybe?

She pushes her tongue further inside of Catra, and update:

Yep.

“Gods, yes,” Catra groans, and oh man.

Everything is great.

Everything is haze of great and the smell of Catra and the taste of Catra and Catra’s hands on her hair and her moans and Catra’s legs shaking whenever she tells Catra how great and wonderful and beautiful and delicious and hot she is but then Catra is pulling her away and—

Adora blinks.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Catra shakes her head weakly.

“Come up here,” she says.

Adora does, but like, since the last time she did this, she’s wearing a lot less clothes, so naked bits of her keep touching naked bits of Catra and just.

Hoo-boy.

Wow.

“Wipe off your face.”

Adora wipes off her face, and Catra kisses her.

It’s long enough Adora is left mildly dazed when Catra releases her.

“Put two fingers inside of me,” Catra directs, and after Adora recovers enough to know what words are, Adora does.

(She takes a moment.)

(Because like.)

(Wow.)

“Curl your fingers—no, not quite—yessss.”

Adora swallows heavily, and Catra kisses her again.

When she’s done, she takes Adora’s thumb in hers, and moves it around her clit.

Her whole body shakes, and she sinks back into the mattress.

“Pull out,” Catra says, and—

Adora’s pretty sure she understands what’s being asked of her here.

When Adora pushes back in, Catra’s body shakes, and just.

Damn.

She curls her fingers, swipes her thumb around Catra’s clit, pulls out again, in again.

Catra cries out, and the hand on Adora’s neck tightens.

“Am I doing it right?”

“You’re such a—” Catra interrupts herself with a groan, “—such a doofus.”

“Yeah,” Adora agrees, pressing their lips together.

When she pulls away, she asks again.

“But am I doing it right?”

Catra laughs.

“If you weren’t, I’d—” gasp “—tell you.” She arches towards Adora, and then frowns faintly when Adora doesn’t lower her face to meet her.

“Kiss me, idiot.”

Adora kisses her.

This time, Catra isn’t doing much of the work, so it’s messy but Gods.

Adora doesn’t care.

She could do this forever.

“You feel so good this is so much better than I ever thought it would be I love you you’re so beautiful you look so good—”

Catra’s free hand digs painfully into Adora’s wrist, but when she tries to stop, Catra shakes her head.

“Don’t fucking stop.”

Adora kisses her again.

“Hey, you know that stupid training Shadow Weaver used to make us shoot the same target on every tick of her metronome?”

Catra laughs, and shakes her head.

“We banned Shadow Weaver talk in the bedroom.”

Adora kisses her again, bites at Catra’s lower lip as she pulls away, and Catra groans in just the nastiest, most obscene way.

“Remember my record?”

Catra kisses her.

“Don’t stop,” she says instead of answering.

“Never,” Adora promises, kissing her again, pressing as much of their bodies together as she can. “My record was an hour and twenty-three minutes.”

Catra laugh-moans.

“Are you—” she gasps out. “Is this you trying to brag about your sexual stamina?”

Adora glances down at the mess of Catra’s pubic fur, the obscene noises her fingers are making as they enter and exit Catra.

She is momentarily distracted because.

Gods.

“Yeah?”

“You’re such a dork oh my—” groan,  _ don’t stop _ “oh my gods.” Then, after another kiss, Catra says, in a quieter voice, “why do i think that’s so hot.”

Adora grins.

“You think I’m hot,” she whispers in Catra’s ear, and feels Catra tighten around her.

Catra groans, and it sounds like it’s both in arousal and also in exasperation.

Adora laughs lowly in Catra’s ear.

“You like this?” she asks, trying and failing to tamp down the giddiness in her voice.

Catra groans, starting to grind down on Adora’s hand.

“You want me,” Adora says, and Catra groans again, her hand tightening on Adora’s wrist.

Adora giggles, and toys with Catra’s ear with her other hand.

She’s starting to shake, so Adora keeps talking.

“When I wake up, I’m not going to be able to think straight,” Adora says. “Every time I close my eyes I’m going to think of you, like this—I could spend my whole life here, holding you,  _ fucking  _ you.”

“Fucking Christ Adora,” Catra cries out.

Adora laughs, and she almost doesn’t recognize her own voice.

“When you asked what I wanted, I wanted to pin you to the mattress, I wanted to make you scream and I wanted to make you whine and I wanted to make you  _ fucking cry _ —”

“ _ Adora _ ,” Catra cries out, her body shaking as she grinds down on Adora hands, rubs the fur of her side all along Adora’s front.

“But I never imagined in my wildest dreams that you would want this, you want me to leave  _ nothing left of you _ .”

Catra movements grow jerky, and Adora keeps talking.

“That you would want me to fuck you until you can’t speak.”

Catra buries her head in Adora’s shoulder, bites down at the skin she finds there and the feeling of Catra’s teeth on her shoulder is the best thing she has ever felt.

She can feel Catra’s tears against the skin of neck, and  _ fuck _ .

“Come for me, Catra.”

Catra’s body convulses against her shoulder and it hurts so good.

(Isn’t pain supposed to wake you up from a dream?)

“Scream for me, Catra.”

Catra doesn’t quite scream, but she does release Adora’s shoulder and cry out into her neck, her entire body rocking and shaking and Adora’s pretty sure this means she’s coming, and she doesn’t know if she’s supposed to stop, but she’s personally found not stopping to be pretty nice, so she errs on the side of not stopping.

“You were so good you felt so good I loved doing this with you I love you you feel so good you made this so great I can’t imagine—”

Until Catra falls limp in Adora’s arms, and pushes Adora’s hand away from her with a free hand.

“What the fuck?” Catra says, her face so red Adora can see it through the fur.

Adora grins, ear-to-ear, and Catra scoffs at her expression.

Adora chases her as she looks away, and presses their lips together, and Catra melts against her.

“How can you be such a horrible kisser and talk like that?” Catra asks, leaning her face into Adora’s chest as Adora wipes her hand off on the weird white bed cover (why would you use white sheets, what happens when your wounds open at night?), and pulls Catra tight to her chest. “I want my cute baby-Adora back.”

Adora is still grinning, ear to ear.

“Did I do good?”

There’s a moment of silence, long enough that Adora can feel the icy hand of her anxiety close around her heart, but when she looks down Catra, the look Catra is giving her punches her heart straight out of her chest.

It’s that same.

Same look.

Like Adora is just.

The greatest person to have ever lived.

“You’re always great, Adora. I love being with you, I love kissing you, I love having sex with you. I love all of it. I wouldn’t give it up for the world.”

Adora’s grin falters, and she looks away, but Catra chases her, rolling them over, cradling Adora’s face in her hands, forcing Adora to meet her gaze.

She leans down, and licks away the tears at the corner of Adora’s eyes.

“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it, princess?”

Adora presses her lips together, and looks away.

Catra’s hand rubs up and down her cheek, and Adora turns her face into it.

“This is what those idiots worked you through, isn’t it?” she says, so quiet Adora doesn’t think she’s meant to hear it. “It should have been me, if I hadn’t been so far up my own ass.”

Adora meets Catra’s gaze again.

Catra smiles at her, soft and loving and mind-destroying.

“It’s okay, Adora. You’ll get used to it eventually.”

Adora glances nervously away from Catra’s gaze.

Catra leans down to whisper in her ear.

“Hey, Adora,” she says. “This dream isn’t over yet. Is this all you wanted?”

Catra’s hand smooths across her abdomen, and Adora is suddenly and very acutely made aware of her own arousal.

Catra pulls away from her, catches one of Adora’s hands, brings them to her lips.

She kisses each finger in turn.

“But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Adora gapes up at her, and then slowly nods.

A predatory smile spreads across Catra’s lips.

“If you change your mind, just say so.”

Looking up at that smile that wants to eat her alive, and uhh.

Adora really doesn’t think she will.

Catra hooks a hand behind Adora’s neck, and rolls them both over, leaving Adora on top of Catra, hands planted on either side of her head.

“Uh,” Adora says.

Adora’s not a sex expert.

But she feels like—

Adora is interrupted by the feeling of soft pads of Catra’s fingers against her sex, dipping into her, and spreading the wetness around her.

Which like.

Pretty sure she didn’t need the help.

Also.

She almost collapses on top of Catra.

“Come on Adora,” Catra cooes, a finger circling Adora’s clit. “Show me those big strong muscles of yours.”

Adora gasps, and almost drops herself on Catra again.

“Let’s make some dreams come true that you haven’t even dreamed yet.”

Adora doesn’t know what that means but as long as Catra doesn’t stop, she really doesn’t care.

Catra hooks a hand behind her neck and heaves herself up to kiss Adora as her fingers tease her, and.

What.

What is happening.

Catra sinks back into the mattress, her fingers still dancing away from where Adora needs her, running the fingers of her free hand up and down Adora’s biceps.

Adora shakes, and Catra smiles.

She does it again, longer this time, more tongue and more teeth, pressing their breasts tight together as she levers her entire body up to meet Adora’s.

She drops down again, smiles again.

She pushes one of her fingers inside of Adora and.

Have Catra’s fingers always been this long?

Adora feels like they haven’t.

Catra kisses her again, while slowly pressing that finger into her and it’s really.

Really not enough.

Adora needs more.

“More,” she says, and Catra smiles.

“No. Trust me?”

Her voice and her gaze are so soft and even if they weren’t, Adora can’t imagine not trusting her, so she nods.

The softness drips out of her expression, and she surges up at Adora again to kiss her again, all while she pushes that finger so slowly into her, and Adora falls to her elbows but Catra doesn’t stop kissing her.

Not until Adora’s entire body is shaking, and her vision is swimming, and her elbows give way beneath her.

She tries to roll off Catra, but Catra doesn’t let her.

“Don’t worry,” she says, finger still inside of Adora, which is making it.

Very hard to focus on what she’s saying.

Catra kisses her, catching a hold of Adora’s lip in her fangs as she pulls away.

“You won’t break me.”

“You might break me,” Adora says.

Catra shakes her head and kisses her again.

“You can take it,” she says. 

Kisses Adora, slips another finger inside Adora, leaving Adora gasping for breath against her lips.

“Come on, Adora.”

Another kiss, as she draws her fingers so agonizingly slowly out of Adora, and then pushes back into her again.

“Show me those big muscles of yours Adora. Is that all you’ve got?”

Adora cries out against her lips instead of answering.

Catra kisses her again, pushes her fingers into her again, and just.

What are words.

What is.

Anything.

Slowly, Adora heaves herself back onto her elbows and when she opens her eyes, she sees Catra smiling broadly up at her, like Adora’s her whole world and then there are fingers inside of her and her lips against Adora’s and—

“There you go,” Catra whispers against her lips, her thumb finding its way to Adora’s clit as she pushes into Adora with renewed vigor and Adora’s entire fucking body shakes and Catra is pushing into her harder now, making stars burst behind Adora’s eyes and her shoulders are shaking, and Catra’s lips are against hers, her tongue is in Adora’s mouth, licking at her tongue and her teeth and—

Adora’s elbows give out beneath her again, but this time Catra doesn’t stop, keeps kissing her as her fingers piston into her, and her thumb rubs against Adora’s clit, and Adora’s body shakes because she wants to grind down against Catra’s hand but she physically cannot, she’s can’t move her arms, can just weakly wiggle her pelvis and—

She can do nothing but luxuriate in the feeling of all of Catra’s fur against her and her lips against Adora’s and her tongue against Adora’s and her fingers twisting inside of her and her thumb on her clit and it’s all just so perfect and Adora has never masturbated to do anything but just rub that itch out of her, wipe away all the feelings she doesn’t want to have, a chore to get out of the way, like the rest of her chores but what in the name of the gods—

There is someone moaning between every kiss, someone who can never manage to finish sentences, starting them like—

“Catra how—”

“Catra what—”

“Catra I—”

“This feels so—”

“I never knew this could feel so—”

“I wish this would—”

Adora’s existence dissolves into a blissful haze in which she can say nothing but Catra’s name and moan and wiggle and it feels like forever, and forever has never felt so right.

Her orgasm builds slowly—so fucking slowly and just.

She can feel it coming and do nothing but wait as each stroke of Catra’s fingers bring it ever closer and closer until—

Adora comes with a gasp against Catra’s lips, and then for a while she just.

Keeps on coming.

When it’s over, she’s gasping against Catra’s lips, and she’s pretty sure she’s saying.

“What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—”

Which is weird because Adora doesn’t curse.

Right?

Catra is smiling smugly above her (when did that happen).

“Oh yeah,” she says, very self-satisfied, and kisses Adora, silencing her  _ what the fucks _ . She pulls away, and man.

Adora can’t imagine kissing Catra will ever get old.

“That was great,” Adora says, finally, when Catra pulls away.

Catra smiles, cards her hands through Adora’s hair.

“How did you know?” Adora asks. “I didn’t even—”

Adora realizes, pretty belatedly, she is asking a figment of her imagination, but Catra doesn’t laugh.

She combs her hands through Adora’s hair, kisses Adora again, long and stupefying.

“I’m twenty-three,” Catra says.

Adora opens her mouth to respond something along the lines of—

What?

Catra kisses her again before she can embarrass herself, cradling Adora’s face in her hands.

“You’re eighteen, right? I just ripped out Octavia’s eye?”

Slowly, Adora nods.

Catra kisses her again.

“I’m from the future, or. Something.”

Another kiss.

Out of the corner of her eye, Adora sees that the white walls of the room they’re in have vanished, to be replaced by a sucking black nothing that promises to—

Catra’s hands slide up, block the view.

“You defect from The Horde in three weeks, when you realize that actually we’re the bad guys.”

“What?”

Catra kisses her.

“I refuse to go with you, because I’m an idiot, but we find each other, after it’s all over.”

Adora is still.

Very confused.

“What?”

Catra kisses her again.

“I’m sorry, I know this is confusing. I need you to remember a couple of things, so hopefully the future can be different. Can be better. Can you do that for me?”

Slowly, Adora nods.

Another kiss.

“Great. First, please tell me you love me before you leave. If you do, I’ll go with you. Please.”

Slowly, Adora nods.

Again.

“I know it’s hard. I know it’s scary, and I know it’s selfish but. The thing I regret most is not going with you when you go. Please.”

Adora nods, more emphatically this time, kisses Catra.

Catra smiles.

“You’re going to save the world. Never doubt it.”

The edges of the bed are starting to go.

Catra kisses her anyways, like they have all the time in the world.

“You’re She-Ra. I know that doesn’t mean anything to you right now, but there’s a sword waiting for you in the Whispering Woods. Run away as soon as you can, and get it. The King of Brightmoon is on Beast Island, save him, take Entrapta, Princess of Dryl. There’s a bomb under Etheria, but you can defuse it, ask Light Hope about the Failsafe. Trust the Princess Alliance, they’re your friends, Glimmer and Bow most of all. You’ll fight Horde Prime eventually, he’s weak to magic. And finally—”

Catra kisses her.

“Don’t forget to love yourself. Don’t forget that you’re worth something. You’re worth  _ everything _ . As long as you remember that, nothing can stand in your way.”

Adora blinks, mouth half open, and Catra kisses her again, and again and again.

“Please,” she says.

Slowly, Adora nods.

The bed’s gone, just the two of the them on a sucking nothingness, and Catra’s started fizzing away, but she hasn’t released Adora, she hasn’t stopped kissing Adora.

“I love you, I’ve always loved you, and you’ll do great.”

“I love you too,” Adora says, and Catra’s broken, static-y smile is like the sun.

Then she kisses Adora and keeps kissing her until the world comes apart around them, and Adora wakes to the sight of the bottom of Catra’s bunk.

Slowly, she turns to look down at where Catra sleeps at her feet, and finds Catra staring back at her.

In that moment, she sees the openness she saw in Dream-Catra, the openness she’s never seen in Catra’s face before, and it hits her right in the heart.

She looks away.

She can—

Tomorrow.

What if.

What if it’s just a dream?

What if it was just the best dream?

What if—

Then Catra is before her, right in front of her, like she hasn’t been since they were children.

Adora jumps back, laughs reflexively.

“What are you still doing—”

“I love you.”

Adora freezes.

It.

It wasn’t.

“Tell me you love me, too.”

It wasn’t just a dream.

“I—I love you, too.”

Then they’re laughing, forehead to forehead and Lonnie yells at them and they curl up and kiss and kiss and Catra is just as good of a kisser as her dream-self had been, and she can only think once Catra is sleeping against her lips, and—

It wasn’t a dream.

Adora cries silent tears, and pulls Catra tight against her.

Kisses her sleeping face as she murmurs happy sleeping murmurs, and then kisses her face some more.

Her tears stop being so quiet, but Lonnie is kind enough not to yell, and Catra doesn’t wake up. 

She’s worked all out of her system, and keeps Catra clutched tight to her chest.

It wasn’t a dream.

The next day, she wakes up, and Catra is still in her arms, and the world is bright.

**Author's Note:**

> (Adora can probably plank for like two hours without breaking a sweat so the whole gimmick of the second sex scene doesn't work but shh shhh shhhhhhhhhhhh)
> 
> Adora was never abused by Shadow Weaver like Catra was, but she still lived a life (almost) entirely devoid of love, and I think getting it might wreck her a little bit. I should write a best friend squad fic in which she just breaks down crying about them being so nice to her.


End file.
